


A Bad Day

by sanerontheinside



Series: Recovery [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chronic Pain, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Written for the QuiObi Writing Discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanerontheinside/pseuds/sanerontheinside
Summary: A Jedi Master does not have the luxury of placing emotion over logic: such would not serve those in the Master’s care. But that is easier said than done, Qui-Gon finds, outside of an active mission.In which Obi-Wan has a bad pain day, and Qui-Gon struggles with a sudden shift in perception.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Recovery [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862353
Comments: 14
Kudos: 188





	A Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> This series is a collaborative effort by Firondoiel, LuvEwan, happygiraffe, and myself!  
> Hope you are all enjoying the h/c ^^

A Jedi Master does not have the luxury of placing emotion over logic: such would not serve those in the Master’s care. But that is easier said than done, Qui-Gon finds, outside of an active mission. 

Though even that is not quite true. He has made Obi-Wan his mission: ensuring Obi-Wan’s comfort and peace is his goal, and it is the most important mission of his life. Obi-Wan would never permit him to wallow in guilt. 

But there are days—days like this—when the logical is a pace beyond him. Days when Qui-Gon helplessly sits at the bedside of his delirious, feverish Padawan and listens to the small sounds of pain, the disjointed ramblings of a mind forced beyond its tolerance. And on those days, the guilt hits hard. 

“This should’ve been me,” Qui-Gon whispers, pressing a damp, cool towel to Obi-Wan’s brow. 

Qui-Gon isn’t expecting a response. He doesn’t think Obi-Wan is ever aware enough to even hear him when the pain is quite this bad. And, in truth, Qui-Gon would never say such a thing if he thought his Padawan could hear it. Obi-Wan would chastise him for taking on so much guilt, and without a doubt the young Jedi would be right. 

And so, he could perhaps be forgiven for startling so badly when Obi-Wan answers him. 

Obi-Wan’s voice is strong, steady. And strange; hollow, as though the answer comes from across galaxies, from deep within the abyssal cold of the Unifying Force. But Qui-Gon can’t say what frightens him more—the voice that sounds like Fate, or the words themselves. 

“It should have,” Obi-Wan answers him. 

Qui-Gon’s heart thuds in his chest, and his mouth tastes suddenly of bitter metal. “Padawan?” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes snap open, feverish and very focused. Laser-focused, like in the throes of his visions, on something Qui-Gon knows is not physically in the room with them. That will always trouble him more than anything else—knowing that his Padawan is not in control, and that Qui-Gon is too far out of his depth to help him find his way back. 

So Qui-Gon does the only thing he can. “Obi-Wan, come back to me, please,” he whispers. “Wherever you are, please come back.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes slip shut again. He breathes, shallow, sharp breaths. “It would have been you, Master. You... I saw... you ran ahead.” 

Qui-Gon blinks. A fear he cannot name creeps into his lungs, up his throat. He isn’t sure he wants to hear this. 

“Obi-Wan...” 

But Obi-Wan will not be stopped, not now. “I watched you fall, every night, from the moment we lifted off from Tatooine. It was... different, each time. I hoped... But it always ended the same. You ran ahead, and the Sith ran you through. You... you left me alone,” Obi-Wan nearly sobs, a quiet, broken sound. 

Qui-Gon’s eyes burn. “Padawan—” 

“You made me promise, and then you left me, and I—gods, I didn’t know what to do!” 

_ “Padawan—” _

Unexpected as the appearance of that Vision was, it slips away almost instantly, like water into parched desert sand. Qui-Gon reaches along their bond, but there is no sign of lucidity there, either—even the Vision-driven coherence slips away into eddies of confusion. Obi-Wan is lost, skeins of thought unraveling in the Force. So many Visions, so many potential futures… 

Qui-Gon gives in and pushes a sleep suggestion down their link. There are few mercies he can offer to Obi-Wan now, but at the very least he can ensure that Obi-Wan will not wake with an aftertaste of horror in his mouth. 

Beneath his hands, Obi-Wan settles into a fitful sleep. 

_ Thoughts unravel,  _ Qui-Gon thinks. _ Shields come loose when faced with pain like this. His mind catches possibilities like a wide-cast net. He Sees— _ everything. 

It’s a cold comfort. 

Worse than that, it isn’t working. It’s not a Vision, not a possibility or potentiality that he might have glimpsed. The feel of it in the Force was of a possibility averted. Qui-Gon can’t explain; he has never been sensitive to these currents. It was always more Obi-Wan’s gift than his own. But for his Padawan to have reached into the Force and  _ altered _ it in such a way—

Altered it in this way,  _ for him— _

Qui-Gon finds it all too easy to imagine himself in Obi-Wan’s place. They share a link, after all. He thinks he would not have been able to withstand such a Trial with anywhere near equal grace. Actually, Qui-Gon thinks (he  _ knows _ ) he couldn’t have survived this long. It’s very likely he would never have left Naboo. 

A part of him has long been aware that Obi-Wan made a choice in the Theed generator station. Facing the Sith was a decision his Padawan made while fully cognizant of his chances of survival. But Qui-Gon had always thought that that moment had come at the very end, when all that separated Obi-Wan from the Sith was a single shimmering red forcefield. 

Now, he realises, Obi-Wan must have made his decision earlier. How much earlier could it have been? When the Sith first appeared in the hangar bay? When they were planning their strategy for attack in the fields below the palace?

When he apologised…? 

Qui-Gon’s heart lurches. 

Obi-Wan had not slept well the entire return flight to Naboo. He had not—Qui-Gon had not asked about it. They’d agreed, a few years ago, that if Obi-Wan needed assistance controlling those dreams, he could come to his Master for it—for Qui-Gon to put him under, ensure a night’s peaceful rest. No matter what lay between them, his Padawan would never endanger himself or the mission by eschewing his Master’s help in this matter, not if it was needed. 

And so Qui-Gon had never asked. 

Obi-Wan stirs with a faint noise. Qui-Gon instantly leans forward, rests his hand on his Padawan’s brow. The worst is over with, he thinks.  _ Long over, _ he can’t help but add morbidly,  _ and I missed it all. _


End file.
